End of the Spear
by mau'indi
Summary: With nothing left to lose, Gabriel, now a fully blooded warrior, seeks revenge against the clan that killed his family and friends. (Part III of the Spear Trilogy)
1. Sober

_I'm not sure how long it's been since Son of the Spear and Path of the Spear, but I've been working on End of the Spear for a couple of years now on and off, poking and prodding at it, never fully satisfied. I had at least three chapters written early on, yet I had a nagging sense that something wasn't right. Something was just… off. And it finally hit me a couple months ago: Gabriel was pathetic. There was too much of him being depressed and wandering around and not enough_ doing _. As the main character, he needs to drive the story forward. When I finally realized my problem, a lot of pieces fell into place or were reorganized. And I think that's one of the great things of letting an idea marinate._

 _I hope this final chapter in the Spear Trilogy is worth the wait. I know it's a short first chapter and I really wish I could share the second and third ones, but all things in good time dear readers :)_

* * *

 **Taun'gra**

huunan'de - huu-NAHN-deh - humans

janga - JAHN-gah - a narcotic

shaiya - SHAI-yah - father

 **Other**

TY - Terran Years

Nephele - The third planet orbiting the star Ixion, it is a large gas giant with five moons (Murcia, Aragon, Andalusia, Navarra and Galicia) and many smaller dwarf moons and satellites.

Navarra - The tidally-locked fourth moon of the planet Nephele, it features several colony cities (Derrigan, Havensberth, Eladoro and Tau Sigma IV)

* * *

 **2512**

* * *

"What happened next, shaiya?" The small group of children at his feet scrunched closer, eager to hear the end of the story. The older children paused in their chores - they had heard the story many times before, but it had always been a favorite.

The yautja huffed his roll of janga leaf, pale yellow smoke curling around his face as he exhaled. "Do you really want to know? It might not end the way you expect."

The children nodded, eagerly clicking for him to continue with the tale. "Very well. I will tell you tale of how Zaiyende the Valiant and his companions, Djesharu the Outcast and Okute the Cunning, heroically defeated the Long Fangs clan with nothing but a sword, a necklace and their wits."

He took another deep breath, blowing a thick cloud of smoke into the air above them. "The trio had just arrived on the strange world of Navarra, a place where stone towers soar into the clouds and empty plains of grass stretch as far as the eye can see. There they hunted fierce creatures and took many skulls. The primitive huunan'de, in awe of the three heroes' prowess, begged them for help, for their gods were powerless and they were too afraid to avenge their dead themselves, so frail were their hearts. 'Save us from the Long Fangs,' they pleaded. 'They kill our females and our pups, for they have no honor.' And brave Zaiyende heard their mewling cries and took pity on the foolish creatures. He vowed to bring the Long Fangs to justice and the huunan'de pledged their lives to the yautja and our gods for all time."

The yautja paused to sample his smoke, heaving a great sigh when he was finished. A few of the children clamped their mouths shut as the leaf's pungent smell washed over them and tickled their throats, but said nothing, knowing that if they interrupted their father he would send them away.

"There was only one problem… no one knew where the Long Fangs were hiding."

* * *

 **~\'/~**

* * *

Holo-flames flickered inside false gas lamps, their dancing light doing little to chase away the gloom. The stool creaked as Gabriel knocked back another drink, slamming the glass against the counter as the warm amber liquid slid down his numb throat. He fumbled as he poured another, black splotches of whiskey spilling onto the worn-out bar.

"If I arrest you for anything, it'll be for wasting good alcohol."

Gabriel turned, holding onto the bar with one hand as the room rocked back and forth. Nova Brady stood in the entrance, a bright shadow in the darkness. "Shhheriff," he slurred, waving a two-fingered salute before turning back around.

"Someone reported a break-in." Nova grabbed the stool next to him, pouring herself what was left of one of the many bottles strewn across the bartop. She winced, growling as the amber drink burned her throat, warmth flushing her cheeks and neck. "Damn, that's strong."

Gabriel chuckled and memories of the last time he'd stepped foot in here came flooding back, shards of clarity burning through the alcoholic haze. _Jeremy flirting with the girls in the other booth. Rin smiling at him from across the room while bussing a table. The Young brothers arguing, Rin's father keeping an eye on them from behind the bar. The air slowly filling with hookah smoke. Darts whizzing. Voices murmuring, laughing._

He drank, chugging half the bottle in just a few desperate gulps, alcohol burning away the memories until they vanished like ashes in the wind. Oblivion. That's what he needed. Drown out the memories and pain until there was nothing. Until he was nothing.

"Eladoro elected me sherriff afterwards… unanimously. I didn't think they would. The only reason I tossed in my hat for consideration was because I wanted to make… make my dad proud." Nova choked out the last part before quickly taking another sip.

"S'erriff 'rady was a good… a good…" Damn m's.

"He was," responded Nova, as if she understood what he'd been trying to say. She stared at her drink, brow crinkled in thought as she twirled the amber liquid around the edges of the glass.

She sighed and set it down, fingers running through her short hair, one side shaved to the root. He remembered it being much longer. "The only reason I haven't kicked you out or arrested you for trespassing is because I know you're grieving. Three years ago, a lot of people turned to booze to try and forget the shit they'd seen. I did… when I was alone." She looked up at him then, her mouth set in a grim line. "Just don't drown."

Gabriel stared at her, then looked down. One of his hands still clasped a bottle, the other engulfed a nearly empty shot glass. _Drown_. Like he'd tried to do all those years ago. Depressed. Drunk. Gun in his hand as he'd waded into the river, ready to end it all.

 _And what if he had?_ He wondered for the hundredth time. What if Father John hadn't found him in that moment, deciding instead to stay inside as tornadoes barreled down upon the town? Perhaps Eladoro would have been spared. His parents and friends would grieve, but eventually they'd move on, relieved of the burden of keeping him a secret.

He growled as pain lanced through his skull, the faces of the dead haunting his mind's eye, the what if's and might have been's taunting him with impossible possibilities. If only he'd stayed put instead of seeking out the hunter in the Red Labyrinth. But no, he'd wanted revenge for his parents. He'd wanted blood. Well, he'd gotten his wish. Blood for blood for blood.

His hand curled into a fist. Rage, electric and pure, burned through his drunken haze, searing the world red. Thirty-six. Thirty-six people _dead_ for no reason. Gabriel slammed his fist down and roared, glass biting into his flesh and thunder pounding through his temples. The world swayed and he found himself standing, looming over Nova. The stench of blood filled the air, blood and anger. His hackles stood on edge, drool dripped from his splayed fangs, the world pulsing and writhing like fire.

He wanted to fight. To kill. To rip apart every single warrior that had dared to hurt the ones he'd loved. Smell their fear. Sink his hands into their chests and-

Arcing coils of pain seized his muscles, Gabriel's body stiffening like a board. He silently roared as he slammed into floor sideways, spasms twitching and jerking his rigid muscles.

After several agonizing seconds, the pain and tension disappeared, Nova creeping into view with stun gun still in hand. The roar, stuck in his throat, burst free. "Fuck!"

An M4A3 pistol came sharply into focus and he froze, the scent of human fear filling his mouth. The situation felt eerily familiar. The pain. Death staring him in the face. Him sprawled on the ground and at the mercy of another. He'd been here, in this situation, before.

"...move! Do you hear me, Gabriel? Don't you move another inch or I swear to God I'll put a bullet in your elbow!"

Not moving for a while sounded great. Gabriel relaxed and closed his eyes, focusing on the memories teasing the edge of his brain. He'd just been thinking about something important. Something about…

 _The hunter leered above Gabriel, the pair surrounded by flames that screamed as they writhed, red shadows dancing within a pit of fangs. With a sucking squelch, the hunter peeled off his face, revealing bloody bone and muscles, hollow burning holes where his eyes should be. Gabriel couldn't run. Couldn't even move. He looked down, horror gripping him as he realized his arms and legs were bloody stumps wriggling futilely over the blood-soaked earth. "Nowww," the hunter hissed. "Diiiieee."_

 _Gabriel roared in defiance._

 _The hunter laughed as he raised his spear._

 _Lightning, brighter than the sun, stabbed the hunter through the skull, leaving behind a charred hole the size of Gabriel's fist. Through it, Gabriel spied a figure, bound by chains, staring back at him._

 _H'darak._

Gabriel eyes snapped open. "H'darak," he rasped.

Nova appeared beside him, a glass of water in hand. "Shut up and sit up. I want you to drink this."

He struggled upright, head pounding as the nightmare faded. That's right. He'd been thinking about the Red Labyrinth and his fight against the hunter. The arbiter had dragged him out and collared him after the explosion. The explosion H'darak had caused after killing the hunter and triggering the wrist bomb. Which meant he'd been hunting the hunter long before Gabriel had become involved.

Gabriel coughed as Nova tried to pour contents of the entire glass down his throat all at once, streams of water spraying the air and dribbling down his chest.

"Hold still, you gigantic baby. It's just water."

When she tried to tilt his head back, he swatted her hands away, glass clattering to the floor as he grasped at a nearby table and tried to pull himself upright. He staggered to his feet, his stomach clenching with the urge to heave as the room spun around him. God, this was already turning into the worst hangover of his life.

"Gotta go," he growled. "Need… ship."

"You need to do _what_?"

She grabbed him as he started to walk towards the door, her grip surprisingly strong for a someone that only came to mid-chest.

"Uh-uh, big guy. Bathroom's this way."

He tried to protest, but his tongue refused to cooperate, slurry taun'gra coming out instead.

"Gabriel, I have no idea if you're speaking drunk or alien, but I need you to do as I say."

She pushed him through the swinging door, ordering him to get it out of his system and to not to come out until he was done.

Gabriel winced, the bathroom lights searing his sight like an explosion, white spots dancing across his vision as he staggered into a stall. Shading his eyes, he growled as he stared down at the tiny metal toilet rising from the floor. He didn't need to-

Gabriel dropped to his knees, several bottles worth of whisky streaming from his throat as his stomach purged the burning poison from his system.

As he hacked and coughed up his internal organs, he realized Nova might have a point about sobering up.

Step one: Get sober.

He gagged and a stream of bile poured from his mouth, the aftertaste of bitter acid making him retch for several seconds.

Step two: Get back to the ship.

Gabriel heaved several deep breaths as he leaned against the cool metal rim, blearily staring at the aftermath of his binge. He didn't want to drown, he realized. And he didn't want to run. Not this time.

With a chime, the toilet sucked away the filth and Gabriel did his best to clean himself. There was something he needed to do before returning to the ship. Something he should have done instead of coming to a bar to get wasted.

He waved Nova off when he stepped out, apologizing for the mess as he left the bar, the cold wind stealing away whatever she might have replied.

A black night greeted him, none of Nephele's four other moons crossing Navarra's sky. Beneath the orange wheel of stars, Eladoro flickered and glistened with a thousand bright lights of its own, its people silently sleeping inside homes carved into the very stone towers and mesas shielding the river valley. Despite the fact that most people were asleep or insides, Gabriel turned on his cloak before trekking through the city. He didn't need a repeat of the welcome party he'd received just a couple of days ago.

He avoided the road that would take him past his parent's home. A new pair of doctors had moved in some time ago, most of his parents' possessions donated or sold. A part of him wanted to go inside one last time, refresh faded memories and honor the people who'd saved his life and adopted him as their own. But not tonight.

A visible puff of heated breath was the only evidence he left behind as he continued on.

At the edge of town, Gabriel slowed his pace, the whispering leaves of the ghostly uwanu trees admonishing him as he drew closer and closer to the sacred place. He paused at the edge of the stone archway, either side guarded by giant seraphim, heads and wings bowed in sorrow. His throat tightened, a fresh wave of anguish squeezing his abdomen and stealing away his breath as he stepped inside the graveyard.

Row upon row silently greeted him, crosses, crescents and lotuses etched into knee-high stone monuments. So many. So many more than when he'd left all those years ago. Slowly, he searched, pausing whenever he recognized a name, the same year of death staring back at him accusingly. 2512 TY.

 _Markus Holbrook_

 _Lance Brady_

 _Amaro Ramirez_

 _Leandro Torres_

 _Isaak Ferguson_

 _Naomi Ferguson_

 _Teresa Wan_

 _Morgan Wan_

 _Barringer "Jeremy" Wan_

 _Eden Wan_

 _Paria Wan_

 _Seneca Wan_

 _Aurora Wan_

 _Darrien Harris_

 _Rin Harris_

Gabriel choked back a sob as he fell to his knees, claws biting into the stone cross as ragged breaths shook his body. He couldn't hold it in. He couldn't do this. He didn't want this. He… He…

"I'm sorry," he cried. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry… Rin. Everybody."

He pried his mask off, hoses hissing as it fell to the earth. His invisibility shield dissolved, heat steaming from his hunched body. Guttural sobs punctured the violet night air. Minutes, hours - he didn't care - passed.

At some point, he'd crawled to his parents grave, waking from his grief as the first rays of dawn warmed the autumn air. Gabriel sat up, exhausted, the pain in his hearts a sharp ache, a wound that would never heal. He glanced around, his bleary eyes finally resting on their names.

 _Maira Santillo, A Loving Healer and Wife,_ 2459-2512 TY

 _Juaqin Santillo, Doctor, Friend and Husband,_ 2461-2512 TY

He knelt in the dry earth, brushing his fingers over their stone-cut names as he desperately tried to remember their faces and scents. They had always been there for him, no matter what he'd done or put them through. They had been his anchor and champions.

"Thank you," he whispered. Two words he'd never said enough.

A quiet rage simmered inside of him as he stared at their names, memories looping over and over and over of the love and comfort they'd given him. It wasn't fair. People like his parents, like the dozens of others who had been slaughtered, deserved justice. Their families deserved to know their killers were in the ground and that they were never coming back.

Like blood spilling from a fresh wound, the red sun burst over the top of the mesa and a violent sense of purpose seized Gabriel. His voice was a hoarse whisper amidst the cold silence of the graveyard. "I swear I will avenge you. All of you."

No matter what the cost. And no one, human or yautja, was going to stop him.


	2. Avak'kara

**Pronunciation Guide**

 **threiseya** \- threh-SAE-yah - blood brother

 **Avak'kara**

Gabriel stepped out of the shower closet, golden steam billowing around him as he dried himself off. He huffed a few times, tasting the air to make sure he'd washed away the scent of humans and their world. Hunger gnawed at him now that his stomach was no longer full of liquor, but Gabriel ignored its growling and strode for the bunk room. He needed to stay focused for what was coming.

Djesharu and Okute were nowhere in sight when Gabriel entered. A small blessing. Djesharu was perceptive. He'd know something was up. Okute would smell the tension and pester Gabriel incessantly until he'd finally give in and tell them his secret.

Five pairs of empty bunks lined the narrow entryway, a three-legged table in the shape of a rounded triangle and several short stools clustered in the corner, an unfinished yancala game scattered across its surface. The ceiling pulsed with a soft orange glow, illuminating the graffiti from past threiyan, names, dates, kills, art and crude messages littering the walls and floor.

Gabriel approached the space between his bunk and tapped a few keys, a vertical compartment in the wall sliding out to reveal two sets of armor. He slipped on his regular outfit, polished black and silver metal settling over his warm skin. He spared a glance at the ceremonial armor, wondering if he should wear it instead. The sight triggered dormant scent memories, Gabriel shuddering in remembrance.

 _Females in heat. The scent of wine. A clash of swords. Fangs sinking into his shoulder._

With a soft whirr, the compartment disappeared back inside the wall, along with the memories. Gabriel didn't need the distraction. Besides, it was too formal. He needed armor he could move in, just in case.

Hands clenched at his sides, he began his search.

The door to the training room spiraled open and Gabriel hesitated. The arbiter danced across the raised dais, spear twirling in his hands with the grace of a master. He almost walked away, his fear trying to come up with excuses to postpone the inevitable conversation.

Gabriel slowly entered the room, keeping silent as he waited for H'darak to acknowledge his presence.

As his eyes tracked each perfect thrust and slash, he tried to understand what was it about the arbiter that inspired such uncertainty in him. If anything, he should be angry for the arbiter using him as a pawn to fix the mistakes of his father and uncle. And for letting him believe he was free once he was blooded. Instead, Gabriel found himself always feeling like the untrained and ignorant yaut'ja H'darak had taken onto his ship all those years ago. The arbiter could've killed him. Should have, if the rumors Gabriel had picked up on were true. But he hadn't. Yet.

The arbiter held the keys to Gabriel's future. Life and death were his to mete out. Gabriel didn't fear death, not anymore. No, thought Gabriel as he watched H'darak go through the final stances of the spear dance, death wasn't what scared him. Failure scared him. Failure to secure peace for what as left of his human clan. After that, his future and his fate no longer mattered.

H'darak relaxed his stance, the dance done, and turned his attention to the young blood waiting for him. He twirled his spear, slamming it against the training dais. "Zaiyende."

"Arrakai H'darak." His former pupil gave a slight bow of his head.

H'darak raised an eyebrow but gestured for the young warrior to approach. The spear hissed as it retracted, the silver weapon laying across his thighs as he sat cross-legged. Zaiyende followed suit, sitting within two handspans of the arbiter. He kept his eyes averted, hands resting on his knees.

Polite. Respectful. Silent. And no weapons, H'darak noted as his gaze swept over the young threita. Suspicion niggled at the back of his mind, his gut telling him something was up. "Either Ul'juska has finally managed to get etiquette through that thick skull of yours, or… you want something. What is it, Zaiyende?" His crimson eyes narrowed, curiosity glinting within their depths as his former student lifted his eyes to meet his.

"I know I have no right to ask this, especially since my request to return to this world was already fulfilled, but…" the young warrior's fists clenched and H'darak sensed his choler rising. "I can't leave. Not yet."

H'darak felt his own ire rising, a mandible twitching in irritation, but he kept his silence. He would at least hear the other warrior out before denying him.

"I've learned something terrible happened after I left Navarra. The yaut'ja who claim this world as their hunting grounds, they attacked the huunan'de because we killed one of their warriors. Many died. I cannot let such an injustice go unanswered."

"You want blood."

"I want _vengeance_."

"Why?"

Zaiyende tensed, searching the arbiter's face for his thoughts. H'darak kept them guarded, not yet willing to show the male his disappointment. Or his anger.

"Because they are clan, arrakai. They saved my life. They treated me as an equal and trusted me."

Madness. All of it. Had the boy learned nothing?

"Because they killed both of my fathers and both of my mothers. They killed and slaughtered without honor. I will not turn my back on them when I know I can do something to stop it from ever happening again."

H'darak growled. "What you ask cannot be done. You are not staying. The elders would never allow it. "

"I never said I was staying, arrakai."

The arbiter paused, uncertain yet hopeful. "What do you mean?"

"I mean we go to the other hunters' world and slay them. Every last one of them. I know you know where they are. Your maps show secrets Ul'juska's doesn't."

H'darak's eyes widened, surprise causing his crest to flair slightly. He hadn't expected this. A request to stay longer, perhaps. Zaiyende had spent too much time with the aliens and too little with his own kind. Making war against their own kind, though...

The arbiter hardened his gaze, measuring the threita. His softness was gone, replaced by hard muscle. Scars decorated his flesh, his eyes lingering on the blood mark across Zaiyende's forehead. But beneath the outward strength he projected, H'darak sensed something else. Tired eyes, simmering rage, clenched fists. The yautja before him was not the same one who'd disembarked only a few days before. Did Zaiyende truly want revenge for the sake of some lesser beings? Why?

"Are you saying you want your blood brothers and your sanja to risk their lives just because another clan killed a few suyet'de huunan?"

"They saved me. They tried to save Nayadhi. They could have left me to die. Or put me in a cage and cut me open. But they didn't. They fed me and sheltered me. They taught me how to ride and hunt-"

"They taught you weakness," H'darak snapped.

Zaiyende growled softly. "They taught me more than you know. I will not repay their gifts with _cowardice_." The taboo word lingered between them like a foul stench, H'darak unconsciously distancing himself from the threita. There were few things worse or more widely condemned than the sin of self-preservation out of fear. Lesser beings felt fear. Prey felt fear. But not yaut'ja.

Zaiyende, sensing an opening, pressed his case. "You killed the korvakra who was killing huunan'de when you found me. These yaut'ja did worse. They did not hunt worthy adversaries. They are without honor-"

H'darak snarled and unsheathed his spear, the tip stopping within millimeters of Zaiyende's face. How dare he try to use the code against him.

"Do you wish to die, threita?"

"Not here. But if I die fighting my avak'kara, then I die. If I live, then I go back to Dhazar'yin and the elders can do what they like with me. I don't care."

Avak'kara. Blood enemy.

The arbiter seethed. The threita was trying to invoke a blood oath. Once sworn, a yaut'ja was obligated to pursue his nemesis until he achieved victory or death claimed him. H'darak clenched his fangs into a deep snarl. "You would throw away your honor and your life on a fool's errand?"

"They're mine to do with as I will."

"You ask me to violate our laws." _Which you've already done so many times_. His inner voice mocked him, made him hesitate.

"I'm asking you to _uphold_ the laws. Let me face my avak'kara. It is my right as a blooded warrior-"

The arbiter's arm twitched and the spear slashed Zaiyende across the side of his face, hot blood oozing from the shallow cut. To his credit, Zaiyende had not flinched. "Do not lecture me on the code! Just because you stabbed a few serpents does not give you the leeway to invoke a blood oath."

"That's enough, arrakai."

H'darak released a snapping click of frustration as he stood, whirling to face to Ul'juska. "Stay out of this, Athende." He slammed his spear to the ground for emphasis, the threat clear.

"Zaiyende is still under my charge and he bears my mark. I can hold him to his oath even if you refuse."

The arbiter closed the distance between himself and the other male until they were mere inches apart, H'darak's hands flexing in anger. Their eyes locked, heady musks mingling as the tension between the two veteran warriors quickly morphed into barely suppressed aggression. The air between them began to warp under the intense heat emanating from their bodies.

"Choose your next words carefully," the arbiter hissed.

"He is the only son of my wayward h'seiya. I will not risk losing him and thus ending his bloodline just so you can save face." Ul'juska slowly placed his hand on the hilt of his spear. "Or shall we settle this another way?"

H'darak growled but backed off. "You assume much about my intentions."

"Then know mine: We are going to pursue this rogue clan so that I can repay them for killing my h'seiya and erasing whatever meaning I'd managed to scrape together after sacrificing my honor."

"And then what?"

"We part ways. You can return to triumphantly to Yarran and I'll continue teaching the worthless bastards they throw my way."

H'darak didn't seem convinced, but he didn't argue, his anger fading behind the emotionless barrier that Gabriel had come to know and loathe so well during their time together. "So be it." The arbiter turned his hardened gaze upon Gabriel, the ritual words like an invisible noose around Gabriel's neck, slowly drawing tight with every breath.

" _Do you understand what you're asking?"_

"Saa."

" _Do you swear to uphold your oath or die in the attempt?"_

"Saa."

" _And do you understand what you must do if you fail?"_

"Saa."

" _Then shed your blood for all to see."_

H'darak handed his ritual knife to Gabriel and he quickly slashed his palm, bright, crimson drops dripping between his clenched fist.

" _It is done. Those who have witnessed the oath are now bound to its fulfillment."_ With those final words, the arbiter stalked out of the training room, the young bloods crowding the hallway behind the door giving him plenty of room as he passed.

The temporary relief Gabriel felt at his victory was briefly tinged with guilt at his selfishness as Ul'juska approached him. By declaring avak'kara, he had forced his teacher and his pack brothers into an undesirable position. The pair remained silent for long moments, the acid tension left by H'darak lingering in the air. His uncle huffed. "So, what's the plan?"

"Plan?"

"This is your hunt."

Gabriel crossed his arms. "H'darak will know where the enemy is. Once we arrive at the planet, we'll need to scout it. The huunan'de estimated a dozen warriors attacked them. Maybe more."

"Twelve against six? Even your luck isn't that good," Djesharu growled as he approached them. "Our skulls will be decorating their doorways."

"What if some of the huunan'de came with us?"

For a moment, neither warrior reacted to the suggestion, as if he just spoken gibberish.

"Huunan'de? They wouldn't last a second. They are too small and weak," Ul'juska hissed.

Okute chortled. "Maybe they can throw themselves in the way of the enemy's spears." He contorted his face into wild surprise and made a clumsy half-dive in front of a non-existent spear barreling towards Djesharu. Djesharu tripped Okute and shoved him to the ground. While the two began to bicker, Aish'katal and Kachente egged them on. The pair often took bets on Okute and Djesharu's frequent fights.

"Enough!" Ul'juska's bark quieted the pack. "If no one else has anything useful to say, then leave or be silent."

The threita bowed their heads in silence and Ul'juska returned his attention to Gabriel. "What makes you think the huunan'de want to fight?"

"The korvakra took everything from them. They hunger for revenge. And they're stronger than you know."

Ul'juska grunted. "We shall see. When do we leave?"

"I'm not sure yet. I need to talk to the warriors of the huunan'de to see if they can contact other clans for help. So we may leave tomorrow. Or we may leave in a few weeks."

"Weeks?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Huunan'de craft are slower."

"I see…" Without another word, his uncle strode out of the training room and disappeared.

Gabriel watched the door seal shut, an uneasy feeling squeezing his gut. He didn't have time to reflect on it though, Djesharu and Okute surrounding him.

"Our sanja named you well, threiseya. You are always charging into situations you don't understand and yet somehow you continue to breathe."

The compliment caught Gabriel off guard. "Djesharu-"

His pack brother held up a hand. "There's something I need to discuss with you."

"Now."

He shook his head. "H'ko. I will find you when it is time."

Gabriel grunted in acknowledgment and Djesharu walked away, leaving Okute to pester him and chitter excitedly. He ignored him, holding up his hand and squeezing it into a tight fist, watching a thin line of glowing blood leak from his palm. He couldn't afford to doubt himself. The oath had been made, the blood drawn. _I swear on the dead, I'm going to kill every last one of those murdering bastards. No matter what._


	3. Ssalesh

**Author's Note:** This chapter kinda fell together after Chapter 2 and inspiration is a terrible thing to waste. Chapter 4 may be out the door before Chapter 10 for _The Mask Maker_ , my other AvP fanfic. We'll see how this next week goes. Which reminds me, Happy Thanksgiving! (Yes, yes, I know there are many of you who are not American, but I am thankful for you all the same, dear readers.)

I've also been using Grammarly, the free version, to double-check my writing and it's been really helpful so far.

Like and review!

* * *

 **Ssalesh**

* * *

The acidic scent of several nearby humans briefly grazed Gabriel's throat. He didn't recognize them, but he could smell their anxiety. They would glance around, their pupils dilating as they futilely searched the night's shadows for any sign of him or his kind. Even though Nova had assured him he was welcomed in Eladoro, Gabriel sensed his presence had merely stirred up painful memories that everyone had almost forgotten.

He crossed his arms, the chill of the night pressing in around him as he watched the quiet bustle of Eladoro, its people still awake and alert even though Ixion had long since set. In Terran Standard Time, or TST, it was only early evening, the sleep cycle still several hours away. And it would still be dark when everyone awoke to start the new 24-hour cycle.

Footsteps from the side caught Gabriel's attention and he shifted as Nova drew near. The slight movement made the sheriff freeze and she squinted into the darkness, hand instinctively reaching for her pistol. "Gabriel? Is that you?"

After a second of indecision, he tapped his wrist computer and his cloak dissolved into arcs of fizzling electricity that pricked his exposed flesh and left the sour tang of ozone in his mouth.

Nova let out a shaky breath. "Oh, thank God, it's you." An uneasy silence lingered between them, neither sure of what to say. She'd been there for him at the bar. Kept him from doing anything stupid.

"Nova." The rumbling growl sounded closer to 'Nora' but it would have to do. He chose his words carefully, enunciating as best he could. "I need to... tell you son'thing."

She raised an eyebrow, hands set on her hips. "Sure, go ahead."

A hover cruiser pulled up beside them then, hidden police lights flashing once. The window slid down, revealing Sung. He hung his elbow over the door, surprise evident on his face. Gabriel still wasn't sure how to feel about the former agent. He'd shot at him twice because of mistaken identity, after all.

"Hey, Nova. Are you ready or am I interrupting?"

"No, it's fine," she replied, her eyes never leaving Gabriel as she spoke. "You hungry, big guy?"

His stomach twisted painfully at the mention of food. He hadn't eaten in days, but his appetite had vanished. Gabriel shook his head.

"Look… I don't know where you're staying, but if you want, you could stay with me. Right now I'm going to Sung's place to eat and you're more than welcome to join us."

From inside the cruiser, Gabriel could see Sung tense.

"Luke will be there. I heard he's been asking about you."

Gabriel looked away at the mention of the boy, the memories of his years on the Fergusons' ranch clashing with the charred, hollow remains of the home butte he'd wandered around in only a few days ago. If he'd have been there, Luke wouldn't have had to see the things he'd seen. Maybe his parents would still be alive.

"And I'd imagine you'll also want to check on Rasha, too. She's just had her second foal."

Gabriel's eyes flicked back up behind his mask and he unconsciously shifted at the mention of his lonma, nostalgia filling him as recalled the long days and nights spent on her back as they patrolled and protected the zarok herd. He missed riding, the thunder of hoofed claws pounding into the dirt in time with his racing hearts as the landscape swirled by him.

Grief tightened his chest.

"Come on," said Nova as she moved towards the passenger side. "You can tell me what's on your mind when we get there. Sung should probably hear it, too."

Sung didn't protest, but Gabriel could tell he was uncomfortable with the decision being made for him.

Once they were all settled inside, they took off for the eastern hills, the endless sea of grass bowing behind them in silver, rippling waves beneath the light of Navarra's sister moons. Nova and Sung made small talk about police work, leaving Gabriel to stare out the back window and recall the last time he'd been in the back of a cruiser, handcuffed and accused of murder. All of that seemed far away now. Leandro Torres, Markus Holbrook and over a dozen others were dead. Slaughtered and buried, whether their bodies were found or not. He wondered how everything could have so utterly changed and yet Eladoro and its endless plains remain the same. The sky should be weeping like his hearts, not glittering with threads of stars.

"Gabriel."

He snapped from his reverie and turned to face Nova.

"Did you see anything interesting on your... trip?"

Gabriel huffed. He'd hardly call it a 'trip.' "Saa." The Taun'gra affirmative slipped from his fangs before he could stop himself.

"Zah? Does that mean 'yes' or something?"

"...Yes."

"So you're fluent in alien now."

"Sorta."

An awkward pause filled the cruiser before Sung intervened.

"Congratulations, by the way."

Gabriel cocked his head and Nova glanced over at him in confusion. When he noticed their stares, he cleared his throat. "Gabriel survived his clan's trial to adulthood. That's why he has that scar on his forehead."

Nova looked like she wanted to ask how he knew that, but instead glanced back at Gabriel, her green eyes staring at the mark carved into his flesh. "What did you have to do?"

Gabriel flexed his hands, scent-memory filling his mouth. He could almost taste the nauseous yellow poison that had nearly killed him, the acidic tang of the praetorian's blood eating into the black volcanic ash, bubbling and sizzling around his feet. He recalled the swift-moving molten rivers, the unbearable heat peeling off his skin while he vomited up his innards. He still couldn't believe he'd survived. "Kill…" he fumbled for the correct translation before giving up. "Kaide sjei'adha."

"What's a kai-day sha-da?

"A dark… creature that has claws and... acid 'lood." Damn B's.

"Acid _blood_? You're kidding me."

Gabriel unsheathed one of his knives and handed it to Nova to show her. "Tail." Or tip, to be more precise. He'd crafted it from his first kill. Sung and Nova gawked at the wickedly curved appendage, the cruiser's dashboard lights glistening off the black chitin. An image of Eladoro overrun by the creatures flashed through his skull, its people strung up along the side of the buttes and covered in thick webs of mucus and blood. He growled softly, below human hearing range. No one deserved such a vicious end, not even animals.

Nova handed back the blade as they neared the Wan's home butte, and Gabriel's melancholy returned. The same plasma scars that dotted the Fergusons' abandoned butte were here as well.

" _They hit the outlying ranches first. Calls started pouring into the office and… there just weren't enough of us. The Planetary Police Force was hours away. I-I left Eladoro when I couldn't reach Mariana or her family." Sung swallowed and looked away. "I was too late."_

Gabriel tried to focus as he hauled himself out of the cramped back seat of the cruiser, his skin prickling as cool, northerly winds brushed past him, each gust carrying the promise that the first snow was not far off. Sensing their presence, lights embedded into the orange earth flickered to life, clearly outlining the path to the door. Gabriel suddenly didn't want to go inside and lingered by the hovercraft. Everywhere he went he reminded people of their loss, of the monsters that had stalked and murdered the ones they loved. And the Wans had lost so much…

 _Sung leaned against his sniper rifle for support as he sat, sorrow lingering in his tired eyes. "I found what was left of Morgan's body and kept going for the house. The door had been blasted open and Teresa's body was just inside." Sung closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the long barrel. "The girls… the girls were, um…"_

 _Gabriel tasted salt as Sung rubbed his sleeve across his face. "I found Mariana. She was barely alive and all she could ask me was if her sisters were okay. I pretended I didn't know and made sure she didn't see the bodies. When we finally got back to Eladoro, it was chaos…"_

The door opened as Nova and Sung reached the foot of the stairs, light and heat flooding the darkness. Mariana smiled as soon as she saw them. "Lee, you didn't tell me the sheriff was coming over…" Her smile faded when she spotted Gabriel and the heat drained from her face. Sung reached for her, gently trying to explain the situation. Her face scrunched in anguish and she pulled away from him without saying a word, disappearing from sight. Nova gave Sung an apologetic look before he went inside and shut the door behind him.

The young woman sighed and sat down, tucking her hands inside her fur-lined leather jacket. Gabriel fiddled with the heat settings for his netting, cranking the temperature up a few degrees to combat the deepening chill as it neared midnight on Navarra. Patches of frost were spreading across the ground, black holes sucking the last drops of moisture from the already dry, dormant grasses.

"She doesn't hate you." Nova's breath puffed in front of her face with each word, the yellow swirls dissolving into the darkness as quickly as they appeared. "She's just… tired from trying to hold the ranch together. And she blames herself for not protecting everyone."

"Not her fault."

Nova gave him a weak smile.

"Not your fault either."

The smile disappeared and Gabriel wondered if he'd crossed a line.

 _They'd moved into a side office for some privacy after Gabriel's initial outburst of denial had ended with him grabbing Sung by the front of his shirt and shaking him as he roared incoherently in human and yaut'ja tongues. Nova leaned against the far wall, hand on her pistol, her eyes vacant while Sung continued the sordid tale. "After they raided the ranches, they converged on the settlement, killing or maiming anyone who fought back. It was quick, it was brutal and it was efficient. They were done in a few hours and disappeared before the PPF arrived."_

 _He rubbed his eyes, but whether it was from lack of sleep or grief, Gabriel couldn't tell. All he knew was pain. A pain deeper than he'd ever known before. His chest hurt, rage choking his lungs and gnawing at the tattered remains of his hearts. He wanted to lash out at something. Anything. Instead, he remained rooted to the floor, half-listening, still trying to process the horrible truth._

The silence stretched between them, neither willing to acknowledge the tenuous connection that held them together. She'd dated Jeremy and had been best friends with…

Gabriel's chest tightened. He could barely think her name.

"You're right." Nova shivered and then she looked at him. "Aren't you cold?"

Gabriel shook his head and ran his fingers across the mesh covering his chest and arms. "Net." A strong gust of wind whipped through the valley and he fiddled with the heat settings for his netting, cranking the temperature up another few degrees. Nova raised an eyebrow, not buying Gabriel's bravado for a second. And she wasn't wrong. He _was_ cold, his hands and feet practically numb. The wind stole the heat from the netting, leaving spots of cold in between the burning lines of heat crisscrossing his skin. The temperature difference was wreaking havoc on his internal body temperature, his skull pounding as his tendrils continually contracted and expanded.

She humphed softly. "Come on, I know you're tough, and judging by your scars seen some pretty intense shit, but don't lie. Your pride ain't worth frostbite." She frowned as she scanned the rest of him. "You should probably consider wearing your human clothes. As long as you look like one of them, people are going to be uneasy around you."

A blast of light and heat poured over Nova as the door opened, Sung looking more haggard than when he'd entered. "Sheriff, you owe me."

"I know," she said, clapping him on the back as she entered.

Despite the cold, Gabriel wasn't sure he was ready to face Mariana and the ghosts that dwelled inside the home. Inside, he could hear Nova greeting everyone, the savory scent of food tickling his mouth before being stolen by the wind.

Sung stopped him with a raised hand before he'd even taken two steps. "Mariana has one condition before you come in: You can't wear what you're wearing now." He shut the door behind him, gesturing for him to follow. "We have some of your stuff in storage."

They headed towards the barn, Sung nodding to the three ranch hands who lived in the second story loft. The trio nodded back, watching Gabriel with wary eyes as he and Sung made their way to the back. Gabriel didn't know them. Off-worlders or drifters perhaps. Another reason he couldn't stay. Too many strangers.

A familiar cinnamon scent distracted him from his thoughts. Amongst the several lonma currently sleeping in their stalls, Gabriel smelled Rasha, bringing back a flood of old memories, all of them good. He wanted nothing more than to open up the stall and take her for a ride beneath the stars. But she had a foal to protect and he might as well be a stranger. It was a good way to get eaten.

He kept moving, Sung unlocking the next section of the long barn and stepping over the high lip of the door frame, stale dust irritating Gabriel's throat. The lights flickered on one by one and Sung dug through the boxes and piles of bags until he found what he was looking for. He plopped it on the ground at Gabriel's feet. "Here it is, all thanks to Luke. When he moved in with us he insisted on bringing your stuff too. Wouldn't leave the ranch without it."

Stunned, Gabriel stood there as Sung left and shut the door, struggling to contain the raw emotions overwhelming him. His breath hitched and his hands shook as he sunk to his knees. He dug his claws into the thin fabric, his breath coming in shuddering heaves as he pulled it into his lap and clutched it against his forehead. A bag of clothes had broken him. Three days and nights of numb self-control and the thing that had finally worn him down was this incomprehensible act. Of all people, Luke should hate him the most. Instead, the talkative boy that loved dirt, bugs and building robots wouldn't leave without his stuff. His stupid, worthless stuff.

 _When Gabriel had finally had the presence of mind to remember to ask about the Fergusons, Sung had gone quiet, his dark eyes staring at something far away. He was quiet for so long that Gabriel regretted asking. It couldn't be worse than everything else he'd told him, but somehow he knew it would be._

" _When I was a kid, the same thing that happened here happened on my planet, Bassareus. We were peaceful farmers living in the middle of nowhere." Sung didn't look at him, his voice a harsh whisper. "These hunters always start their larger hunts the same way: With a ritual. There are plenty of theories about why they do it, but when you're six-years-old and your family is begging God for death, you don't really care about why someone's murdering the people you love, you just want them to stop."_

 _Gabriel could feel the heat building inside him, a volcano of fury and denial. No. Not Luke. Not him. Anyone but him!_

" _Sung," Nova whispered, but he didn't seem to hear her._

" _Like me, they made Luke watch. Watch them carve strange symbols into their bodies before skinning them alive-"_

" _Sung, that's enough!"_

 _Gabriel had lost it then, ripping the door from its hinges as he stormed out of the police headquarters. He had to see the ranch for himself. Had to get out of there before he hurt someone else._

Gabriel ripped off his mask and clamped on his inhaler mouthpiece, choking and gasping as grief twisted and wrung him out. Oily sweat dripped down his chest, arms and face, heat and pain straining his lungs and face.

He sat like that for a long time, letting the mask soothe his lungs while his body purged itself, Gabriel's body slick with the salty, pungent resin oozing from his pores.

Slowly, he dug through the bag, pulling out each article of clothing and smelling it before setting it aside, chirring whenever he found a knickknack Luke had stuffed inside. He used the bag to dry himself off before shakily stripping and putting on whatever he happened to grab first. Jeans; a black tank top; a fleece-lined, leather jacket; and worn leather boots completed the ensemble. It all felt tight and restrictive, almost suffocating. He stuffed his armor and gear into the bag and slung it over his shoulder, ignoring the suspicious looks the ranch hands were giving him as he exited.

He wouldn't say he felt better. Starving and slightly calmer than before, but not better. He wasn't sure he would ever be the same. Too many people were dead. Too many people who weren't had been hurt.

The cold air outside kissed his burning face and stole the heat from his boiling body, his empty stomach curling in pain and anxiety as he made the short trek from the barn to the butte, frost-covered grass crunching beneath his boots. He felt heavy with so much clothing, his feet like blunt hooves.

His discomfort faded as soon as he opened the door, nostalgia hitting him like the wave of heat slamming into his chest. He removed his inhaler, stretching his mandibles to take in the new and old smells. The scent of dog had faded but wasn't completely gone, the sweat of their paws permanently etched into the carpets dotting the stone floor. Dirt, meat and the sharp tang of spices filled his mouth, along with the scent of each and every person that had, at some point, been in the home over the past few days. He closed the door, hesitating to venture further. He felt like a stranger entering another stranger's home for the first time, the warmth and the noise that had once been omnipresent replaced with a tired murmur.

From around the corner, he could just make out Nova, Mariana and Sung discussing the upcoming annual drive when all of the zarok herds were moved to the processing area attached to the port in Eladoro. There the chosen animals were slaughtered, their bodies carved into chunks that were then packed and stored inside the giant cargo ships that came to collect the meat. The herds were smaller this year due to drought and hungry predators, which meant the economic hardship they'd been struggling through for the past three years wasn't over. And it might get worse if the rains stayed away again next year.

A mass of reddish-orange hair appeared around the corner and Gabriel froze, his muscles instinctively coiling as adrenaline pumped through him. Dark eyes stared back at him, the long years reflected in their sullen depths. This wasn't the same boy that had pestered him while he fixed engines or challenged him to lomna races. He was taller, leaner, already outgrowing what appeared to be new pants. Gabriel took a deep breath, dropped his bag and closed the gap between them. He clasped Luke's shoulder, gently shaking it, the greeting of his pack comforting in its familiarity and respect. Luke did not react, his scent remaining unchanged as his eyes slowly wandered from Gabriel's outstretched arm to the rest of him.

"What'd you get me?"

The question caught Gabriel off-guard. Get? He let go of Luke's shoulder and struggled to come up with something.

"Did you hunt any dire cats?"

He shook his head.

"Foxwolves?"

He shook his head again.

"Water dragons?"

He shook his head, a rumble crawling up his chest. "Fire dragons."

A spark of interest filled Luke's eyes. "Nuh-huh."

Gabriel rumbled softly, the familiar greeting filling him with warmth. "Uh-huh."

"How big were they?"

"Huge." Gabriel unsheathed his kaide sjei'adha knife as proof. Luke's eyes glowed with awe as Gabriel placed the black blade in his hands.

"Careful. Sharp."

Luke grinned. "Wow… can I show everyone else?"

"Sure."

While Luke distracted everyone, Gabriel stayed behind, the smells coming from the plate warming on top of the stove too tempting to ignore. He lifted the cover off and popped a piece of roasted potato in his mouth, the meaty fiber not as shocking to his palette as he'd expected. He stuffed a few more into his mouth before grabbing a handful of well-cooked zarok meat, nearly choking as he eagerly swallowed all of it whole. He'd barely tasted any blood and on some level it disappointed him. He wondered if his disappointment should concern him or if he had just become used to eating raw meat as he tried some of the yellow squash. He practically purred as the buttery mush slid down his throat. Butter. God, he'd nearly forgotten what it tasted like.

Nova cleared her throat while Gabriel's fingers were claw-deep in potatoes. "When you're done being a barbarian, Luke wants you to tell us the story of how you killed the "fire dragon." She used air quotes to emphasize her point. Then smirked and left Gabriel standing there, hand still gripped around whatever morsel would fit inside his fist. Three fistfuls later, he was in the living room, explaining in broken English and Taun'gra how he'd earned his blood mark.

* * *

 **-\|/-**

* * *

Everyone had seemed interested in his stories. Everyone that is, except Mariana, who barely said two words the entire time. Sung knew enough that he wasn't surprised, so it was mainly Nova and Luke that kept pestering him. Eventually, Gabriel's throat couldn't take it and he had to stop. The conversation then steered to police work, Nova and Sung working with Derrigan and the PPF to root out poacher camps that had started springing up in remote regions of the world.

Luke disappeared, presumably to tell Shilin everything. Gabriel hadn't had to ask to know that she was too scared to see him; he could smell her anxiety even from the living room. At one point, she'd tiptoed down the hall. He didn't know how long she'd listened, but Gabriel was glad she was alive and that Luke was there to keep her company. Without consent from his relatives, who lived light years away, Luke would likely remain a ward of Eladoro until he turned 18. Long-distance paperwork tended to get lost or buried.

Gabriel was starting to doze off when a distinct sound caught his attention. Sung and Nova obviously hadn't noticed, their hearing unable to pick up the faint sounds of distress coming from around the corner. When he could no longer ignore it, Gabriel stood and tentatively entered the kitchen. He found Mariana staring into the dish-filled sink with head bowed and white-knuckled hands gripping the counter's edge, the rush of hot water masking her quiet sobs.

"'Ariana…" He'd never seen her cry before. She'd always been the serious one, perhaps something that came from being the oldest of seven.

She looked away, rubbing her hand futilely across her face to stop the tears. Hesitantly, Gabriel put his hand on her shoulder, finally drawing her into a hug that she neither resisted nor embraced. They stood that way for what felt like a long time, Mariana quietly sobbing into his chest. She was all Gabriel had left of his family, in a way, the last tether connecting him to Eladoro.

Eventually, Mariana pushed away and grabbed a towel to wipe her face. "I'm sorry, Gabriel. I'm not usually like this. It's just that... when I look at you, all I can think of is… is Jeremy and his stupid grin." She smiled, her lips trembling slightly. "He was always shirking his chores to go on some crazy adventure with you, which meant I had to cover for him and listen to father praise him for what a great job he'd done. God, don't even get me started on the girls he used to date either. Except for Nova, of course. She was probably the only smart match he ever made."

A smile pricked at Gabriel's mandibles as he recalled Jeremy's relentless pursuit of the female gender, his multiple failures never fazing him for one moment. It was something Gabriel had always admired about his friend, his confidence and the ability to take things in stride.

"I was always jealous of him, of the way my father treated him even though I was the oldest and worked harder. Now I have the ranch - everything I always wanted." Bitterness tinged her words. She snapped the water off. "You know they never even found his or Eden's bodies? Just their lonmas with their heads ripped off."

Anger flushed Gabriel's face. They hadn't deserved such an end.

"Gabriel." Mariana hesitated, her eyes refusing to focus on him for more than half a second. "Do you think they're still alive?"

The question caught him off guard, the certainty of everyone's demise never questioned in his mind. He rumbled as he considered the scenario, but the more he weighed the possibilities, the more hopeless it looked. Even if they'd been captured, they would not be kept alive. The hunter he'd fought and the clan's rampage through the settlement was evidence enough of their brutality and disregard for life.

But as he looked in Mariana's eyes, a spark of hope smoldering within their tired lids, he couldn't bring himself to say no.

* * *

 **-\|/-**

* * *

The adults lounged in the living area while a radio station quietly played space blues and classic synth rock, Luke and Shilin sent to bed. Gabriel watched as Nova lost chess matches to both Sung and Mariana, the couple leagues better than her. The pair were currently faced off against each other, patient as black-eyed panthers. The yaut'ja tried to wrap his head around what exactly Mariana saw in the man, especially since she'd never shown an interest in anyone else before.

Nova yawned and stretched in her seat, setting down the book she'd been reading, _Island of the Blue Dolphins_ from the look of it. Gabriel straightened as she rose and made her way over to him, plopping herself down on the other side of the loveseat.

"Hey, big guy. Don't think I forgot that you wanted to tell me something."

Gabriel rumbled, going over the words he needed to explain. He needed to be careful. "We, hunters, go to find... evil clan. When we find, we kill."

Sung and Mariana looked up from their game, the former interested, the other anxious.

Nova seemed strangely eager. "Find them? You mean you can track down the bastards who attacked us?"

"Yes. H'darak has… way."

"Hedarik? Who or what is that?"

"H'darak is… judge." He pointed at Nova's police badge still strapped to her hip for emphasis. "He can track clan. Can find world."

"I've heard of hunters like him," Sung chimed in. "Lone wolves who hunt down rogue hunters. Wasn't sure I bought it, but I guess it's true."

"So this Hedarik is like a... police officer?" asked Nova, looking from Gabriel to Sung and back.

"More like judge, jury and executioner. An arbitrator. The kind that puts the law before the individual."

Gabriel nodded. Sung seemed to understand better than anyone his species and how they thought.

Nova furrowed her brow, deep in thought. "If what you're saying is true, then you'll be leaving soon?"

Gabriel waved his hand in a so-so motion.

"You don't know? What's wrong?"

"He may not have the numbers or the support of the others."

Again, Sung got to the heart of what Gabriel was trying to say. It was clear there was more to the former agent than Gabriel had realized. He would be an important ally and liaison if the rest of Eladoro was brought in to consider his proposal.

"How many are there of you?" asked Nova.

He held up his hands to make the number seven.

The sheriff frowned. "Only seven?"

"I take 'lood oath. They follow. They hunt."

"So what's the holdup?"

Gabriel looked over at Sung. "Need yaut'ja hunters."

Sung's eyes widened, but before the man could say anything Mariana jumped to her feet, jarring the table and scattering the chess pieces. "No! Absolutely not, Gabriel. Sung isn't going anywhere near those monsters, do you hear me?"

"Hun, wait a-"

She rounded on Sung. "I won't lose you! I nearly lost everything three years ago and I am not losing another person that I care about."

He got up and pulled her into his arms, Mariana sobbing against his shoulder and squeezing him tight.

Gabriel looked away, guilt and anger eating at him. Those bastards had done more than scar his human sister, a proud and strong woman - they'd broken a part of her.

While Sung consoled her, Nova motioned for Gabriel to follow her, the pair easing away and into the kitchen. The sheriff sighed and ran a hand through her short, blonde hair. "Well, that rules out Sung, I guess. It'll be hard to convince the rest if the professional alien tracker doesn't join up."

Gabriel waved his hands. "No, not Sung. Want Sung to get yaut'ja contact son'one."

"You mean the shadow group he worked for? Do you think they'd help us?"

"Don't know. Need to try."

Nova nodded, forefinger and thumb pressed against her chin as she thought, pacing slightly back and forth. "It's worth a shot. With Sung's contacts… but we'd need funding… a corporate sponsor perhaps…"

Gabriel looked up as footsteps approached the kitchen, Sung appearing, tired and anxious.

He cleared his throat. "I, uh, promised her hot chocolate." He walked passed them and grabbed a small pot hanging from the wall.

"Sung-"

"I can't go, Nova." Water hissed from the faucet as he filled the pot. He looked up, glancing towards the living room before lowering his voice. "I want to help, but I can't. Mariana and the kids need me. Plus, if you go sheriff, someone's gotta take care of things around here." He snapped the faucet off and set the pot on the stovetop, flames glowing as the starter ignited the gas.

"Way ahead of you, Sung."

"Oh? How so?"

Nova gestured between her and Gabriel. " _We_ have come up with a plan."

Gabriel huffed and crossed his arms.

"We need you to contact your ex-girlfriend-"

"She's not my ex-girlfriend," Sung muttered, crossing his arms and looking away.

"-and tell her you're calling in a favor or something. Get her to loan you a strike team or special forces or whatever it is they have. I'm sure the suits would love some alien tech and bodies to study - no offense, Gabe - and the chance to pat themselves on the back for removing a threat to countless worlds."

"There's just one problem with your scenario. What's to stop them from turning on Gabriel and the others before or after you get there? You can't trust these guys, Nova. They answer to the corporations as much as the Galactic Council and those bastards are almost as ruthless as the hunters you're going after. Maybe more."

Nova opened her mouth, then shut it, frowning as she calculated the risks.

Gabriel gestured at the pot, golden steam billowing from the roiling white-hot water. Sung snapped off the gas and grabbed two packets of chocolate mix and a chipped mug from the cabinet. As he stirred the water into the powder, Nova began pacing again.

"There's has to be something we can do…"

A loud rumbled rolled up Gabriel's chest, the two humans pausing what they were doing, large eyes staring up at him expectantly.

"'Ercenaries," he hissed.

"Are you trying to say 'mercenaries?'" asked Nova.

"Yes."

"The problem of money of remains," Sung reminded everyone.

"Work that out with your ex-girlfriend-"

"Christ, Nova, for the last time, she's not my ex-girl-"

"What ex-girlfriend?" Mariana approached them, face flushed but calm.

"-friend."

Nova smirked as Sung handed Mariana the steaming mug, the man sheepishly assuring her it was nothing.

"Are you talking about Lyra, Lee's partner?" asked Mariana.

Nova nodded. "We think she can help us. That's all we need Sung to do. See if she has any ideas or contacts we could use."

Mariana glanced over at Sung, then sighed and looked down at her drink. "Alright, that's fine… I just... I'm sorry for freaking out a few minutes ago."

"You don't have to apologize for anything, hun." Sung placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, gently kissing her on her forehead. "Nobody's mad at you."

Nova sidled towards the door, grabbing her heavy jacket and motioning for Gabriel to do the same. "Okay, well, we'd better get going. Thanks for inviting us over, Mari. The food was great." She gave her a thumbs up. "Sung, we'll be in touch at the station."

"Aye, aye Captain Brady. And remember, you owe me."

Gabriel gave a slight bow and followed Nova out the door, grabbing his bag on the way out. Black clouds raced across a violet night sky, blotting out the moons in flashes of light and darkness. Despite the deep chill and gusting winds, he felt warm. Hopeful even. They were one step closer to getting vengeance. One day closer to ridding the world the monsters that had stolen everything from them.

* * *

 **-\|/-**

* * *

Steam bathed the jungle floor in a grey twilight, the twin suns' light barely able to penetrate the thick canopy above. Trees and animals were little more than wraiths in the mist, shadows that scurried in the underbrush and over limbs, melting into the perpetual fog with nothing but the trembling of leaves and scuff of claws to hint at their departure. But the murky camouflage did little to conceal the hunter's prey, its body a softly-lit beacon in the dim haze. He slid down from his perch, rolling as soon as he hit the ground and silently landing on the balls of his feet. He listened for his prey, cocking his head to make sure he had not disturbed it. Satisfied with the silence that greeted his ears, he slid through the maze of large ferns like a serpent, their leafy fronds brushing against him in welcome, their poison making his skin prickle in irritation. But he was too large and too strong to be drawn into their deadly embrace. He dropped into a gully and loped along its trickling water bed, pausing every so often to scent his prey, the creature's soft chewing becoming clearer with each step. Slowly, carefully, the hunter hoisted himself up and crawled across the damp earth along his belly, freezing each time the creature paused in its search for more of the precious fruit that had dropped to the forest floor. The suns seemed to crawl across the sky with him, his tensed muscles and hunting instinct bringing him closer and closer with each steady breath.

He drew himself to a crouch, his burning muscles and dilated pupils flooding with the thrill of the hunt as he moved into position behind his prey. Rising, he drew his knife, the heat of the creature whispering against his skin. If he reached out, he could caress its coarse fur. Instead, he grabbed it by the horns, jerked its head back and sliced open its throat before it even had time to scream.

Blood, bright and warm, bathed the earth with its dying light, the dark god eagerly claiming the offering as the creature's life force disappeared from this world, its body already growing cold.

Dark shadows thudded to the ground around him, but the hunter was not concerned. His warriors had seen him hunt, drawing closer than any of them had to such a creature without the aid of invisibility. He made it a point that it was skill, not tools, that truly made a hunter.

His lieutenants bowed their heads in acknowledgment of his well-made kill, and he hoped the lesson had made an impression on the young ones lurking in the background. He barked at them to take the kill back to the village, the younglings eagerly bursting to the forefront and fighting over who deserved the honor of carrying the meat back to their mothers and sisters.

They quieted when the leader's trusted second growled at them, pointing at two of them and ordering them to take the carcass back while the rest were sent to hunt for more food with a male to supervise them. "Damn younglings. They make too much noise," he hissed.

"They are still young, Hutzil. They will learn."

"If they don't, they'll feel the back of my hand."

The other males chuckled darkly, the lessons of their youth carved into their flesh by their fathers' whips. They would learn or die.

Hutzil began to growl orders, splitting the hunting party into two groups. Today, they would patrol their territory's borders. They scampered up the trees, their muscular arms and calloused feet easily propelling them into the high branches. The need for silence gone, they thundered through the forest canopy, the rubbery limbs flinging them far through the air. At each marker, they tied a fresh skull to a tree or added a new one to the large pile of skulls left beneath one of the dark god's stone claws that protruded from the mossy ground.

The group burst through the edge of the canopy, halting at the river that separated their territory from the Bloody Hands. Fresh skulls and claw marks were applied to the marker tree and they were about to move on when two figures appeared on the opposite bank. They were young, but the scars decorating their arms and faces proved they were blooded warriors. For several long moments, the warriors of the two tribes stared each other down, neither willing to leave the river until the other had gone.

Growling impatiently, Hutzil drew his energy spear and fired a warning shot that shattered the trunk of a tree barely two handspans away from the nearest warrior. The two yautja laughed.

"Your aim is as worthless as your name, Long Fangs!"

Hutzil growled and aimed for the one yelling. A grunt from his leader stopped him.

This only encouraged the Bloody Hands. "Run away, Long Fangs! Crawl back to your alien whores and dead god! Cower behind your false leader, the weakling who couldn't even kill his own father." Their taunts continued, the Long Fangs enduring in silence.

"How much longer must we listen to their screeching, Ssalesh?" his second hissed.

The leader of the Long Fangs' drew back his mandibles in a silent snarl. "Hutzil…"

"Sei?"

"Kill them."

Hutzil took the first one down quickly, plasma punching a hole through his chest. The one that had been shouting stopped, stunned as his companion fell to the ground dead. He roared at the Long Fangs, more curses spraying from his throat before he fled into the trees. A moment later, Hutzil crawled out of the river and onto the far bank, loping after his quarry.

Ssalesh listened for the sounds of battle, remaining stoic lest his warriors think him affected. But beneath his calm veneer, he simmered at the insults tossed so casually his way. He had done everything in his power to assert his birthright after his father had died on that alien world at the hands of some strange, clanless yautja. He'd scoured the alien settlement, searching for his quarry and cutting down anything that had gotten in his way. But his challenge had gone unanswered, the yautja's scent and tracks stale and faded. He'd waited for two years. _Two years._ All of his subsequent forays to that world yielding nothing but defeat and shame. Unable to slay his father or his father's killer in combat had brought great dishonor on his tribe. What kind of power did he have as a leader if he was unable to take it from his father and drink his blood - the blood of his ancestors that he might receive their strength?

The suns had barely moved across the sky when Hutzil returned and deposited the two heads of his kills at Ssalesh's feet. There was not a scratch on him, the second warrior's death not even worth telling. "What should we do with them?"

"Break them. Let them serve as a warning to others that Ssalesh of the Long Fangs does not suffer fools."


	4. Lyra

**Lyra**

On the terraformed planet of Regulus, a thunderstorm was brewing, dark, purplish clouds steadily rolling across the heart of the city, interrupting planetary and galactic travel for light years around. The planet sat at the core of several dozen systems, one billion people crowded into its megacities while the terraformer machines continued to put the finishing touches to the planet's biosphere.

Large drops of rain angrily spattered across Lyra's hood and shoulders, the dull slaps quickly growing into a deafening roar. Street lamp reflections shivered in the newly formed puddles as the rain pounded the sidewalk and soaked her shoes. Lyra hitched up her coat and kept her head down, ducking off the street to head sub-level. She avoided the bright, crowded shopping district of the underground and slipped into the darker side passages, angry neon signs illuminating the rust-colored hallways, their humming buzz punctuated every so often by muffled curses and laughter.

She stopped at a gray door most would mistake as a maintenance or storage closet, DO NOT ENTER painted in large, white letters across its surface. She shoved her credit stick under the door, the thin device disappearing for a moment. The door shuddered as heavy bolts thundered open and Lyra was admitted, grabbing her credit stick from the doorman as the entryway sealed shut behind her with an ominous thud.

She kept her hood on and chose a seat at the bar, ordering a drink and waiting for her contact to show up. She still couldn't believe she was doing this. She shouldn't be doing this, for professional, legal and personal reasons. Yet here she was, all because her former partner had called in his favor, the one he'd promised never to use.

Her contact slid into the seat next to her, the same terrible pick-up line reassuring her everything was going smoothly so far. "Can I buy you a drink or do you just want the money?"

"Neither," she responded as the bartender slipped her a whiskey. "But you can tell me if you're available this weekend."

Aron Gray smirked and ordered a beer. Lyra had always thought he looked too handsome for a mercenary, his only flaws a deep scar running from the right side of his lower lip to his chin and choosing the wrong side in the Tiberian civil war.

"I was surprised you called, considering how we parted last time," he said.

"I owe someone a favor. And if you could not bring up the incident, I would very much appreciate it."

"'The incident?' Is that what you're calling it." He tsked. "That hurts."

"I'm sure you'll recover. Now about the deal. What says Henders?"

"The captain thinks the offer is too good to trust. That's a lot of money, even for a-" his voice dropped "-hostage situation. Which makes him think you haven't been completely honest."

"Your contact can provide you with the details."

"Why not now?"

"Because…" she paused as the bartender drifted by, then lowered her voice to almost a whisper. "If someone finds out I've compromised operations by talking with-"

"Adventure capitalists?"

"-privateers."

"How romantic."

"Then I will lose my job. Or worse."

"You could always join us. The captain's always in the market for a smart hand."

"I like wearing a suit and tie."

Aron chuckled and sipped his beer, sweat dripping from the bottle and onto the rough, wooden bar. A whiff of illegal narcotics, sweet and nauseating, drifted by as people shuffled to and fro in the dimly lit lounge. Even this hidden place was a front, camouflaged doors leading to deeper rooms that hosted all manner of back-door deals and perverted fantasies that Lyra tried not to think about.

She fiddled with her glass, too tense to take another sip. Any of the other patrons hidden in the smoky shadows could be one of the organization's agents planted on Regulus to keep an eye out for unusual murders or disappearances. The hunters liked going after criminals and Regulus was no stranger to violence.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled in warning. One of the patrons had been staring at her for quite some time, but unless she turned to look at him, she couldn't be sure if it was recognition or lust that drew his scrutiny.

"Don't worry. That guy isn't interested in you." Aron's smirk didn't quite reach his steel-gray eyes.

"Need an escort?"

"Nah. He's been tailing me for a while. He won't try anything today. They usually get twitchy before they try and bust me."

They both took another sip of their respective drinks, Lyra paying the bartender while Aron checked his hand for the time, glowing text scrolling across his flesh. It disappeared with a wave of his other hand, like an eraser across a chalkboard. He chugged the rest of his beer, sighed in satisfaction and got up to leave.

Lyra grabbed his arm. "Hey, wait. Do we have a deal?"

This time Aron was all business. "No. For all we know, this is a trap. I'm sorry Lyra, but right now the money isn't adding up and the captain doesn't like it. You need to give me something more or I'll tell him you've changed your mind."

Lyra ground her teeth, anxiety knotting her stomach. How do you ask someone to fight monsters?

Sung had somehow managed to contact her. The hunter named Gabriel had returned, blooded and pissed and wanting revenge. Even with six other hunters and a few volunteers, they were short on manpower. So she'd pulled some strings, contacted business mogul Shen Xu who'd lost his great-niece to the hunters, picked up some funds and contacted a group of mercenaries she'd worked with before. How did she explain everything? That there were extraterrestrials that got their kicks hunting humans and other terrifying organisms that could wipe out colonies overnight?

"The hostages were taken by… aliens."

Aron's look of incredulity morphed into a chuckle. When Lyra continued to glare at him, his mirth dissipated. "You're serious?" He pulled his arm out of her grasp and leaned forward, practically on top of her as he searched her face. "Lyra…" he breathed as he pulled away. "You really believe that?"

"I've seen them. And they're not green and cuddly. They're big, fast and ruthless. Complete savages. It's dangerous. Very dangerous."

"Lyra, this… this is a bit hard to swallow."

"Then go to the contact site and you'll have your proof."

Aron's brows furrowed. "Alright. I can't promise anything, but I'll pass it on to the captain."

Before she could thank him, his lips were pressed against hers, soft and strong and gone too quickly. Stunned, Lyra watched him exit, unsure whether she felt angry or something else.

"Damn you," she whispered.


End file.
